"Something important has happened, but it will not delay our leaving Dublin to-morrow," he replied, mentally deciding that the time had come for him to confide his secret to this tender heart.
If it brought pain, God forgive him, since he was unwittingly the cause, but sooner or later Cleo must learn the truth, and the occasion seemed to demand that he speak now.
They were alone, but it was very public—perhaps a quiet nook in one of the small parlors would suit better for a confessional.
"Come with me, dear cousin—I have much to tell you—much that concerns my past and promises to control my future," he said, earnestly.
"Ah," thought Cleo, as she followed his eager steps, "it is coming—he has seen her again, this Georgia whom he knew and loved in San Juan. I must crush down my own feelings in the matter and appear just what he believes me—an affectionate comrade, a loving sister."
That was a heroine for you—it is not given of all women to be Joan of Arcs, but occasion may arise in any life calling for as much determined spirit and heroism as the noble Maid of Orleans ever boasted.
The bijou parlor was entirely deserted, though still lighted, and over in a cozy corner where a pile of cushions invited Oriental comfort they settled down for a little private talk.
Some men would have opened up in an evasive manner and told as little as necessity demanded.
Not so Roderic Owen.
When a task was set before him, no matter how unpleasant or embarrassing, his method was to plunge squarely into it, neither sparing himself nor seeking glory from the recital.